


don't think this is innocent (i'll sink my teeth right into it)

by Anonymous



Series: raine’s anon-fics. [2]
Category: no - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Choking, Come Inflation, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Ghost Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Possessive Behavior, Power Dynamics, belly bulge, i mean ghostbur refers to himself as tommy's older brother but that's just his weird kink, no incest though, there's a lot going on here.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29372097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: it doesn’t matter how fucked up it might be in the end. tommy is theirs and theirs alone and that’s all that matters.(phil, techno and wilbur save tommy from exile. it's easy for tommy to fall back into both their arms and their beds.)
Relationships: Technoblade/TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot/Technoblade/TommyInnit/Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot/TommyInnit
Series: raine’s anon-fics. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156892
Comments: 9
Kudos: 508
Collections: Anonymous





	don't think this is innocent (i'll sink my teeth right into it)

**Author's Note:**

> *half-asleep at 4am while i turn the found family into a gangbang* i’m a terrible person 
> 
> i usually try to tag things pretty lightly, but because this fic covers a fair amount of kinks, i wanted to make sure anyone with specific squicks could avoid it :)
> 
> the tombur section is the longest part of this, i am ridiculously predictable as always.
> 
> update: how does this have 10k+ hits what the fuck-

there’s something about tommy that is so enthralling.

the boy doesn’t have to try and he has the attention of everyone in the same room, as he chokes through a squeaky laugh and smiles so bright it could rival the sun. not that tommy knows the effect he has on others, not when he’s far too oblivious for it to be intentional. 

the makeshift family had only truly come into being because of tommy’s influence. wilbur and phil had been close for years before smpearth popped up on the list of servers, and technoblade had been something of a friend to the pair. tommy was yet to be part of the equation and no one had expected to fall for the childish head of the business bay.

wilbur had been the first to cave to his charm, allowing the teenager to drag him into silly little conflicts even if he faked annoyance. then came phil, and technoblade could not find it in himself to understand, not when the business bay had become irritating pests that he could not swat away.

and then tommy fought an admin, a god, with so much perseverance and a new victory on his belt. techno had felt begrudging admiration for such a feat and that soon melted into affection when wilbur finally dragged the boy into their group, even if their factions had yet to become allies.

wilbur jokingly called tommy his little brother and phil had followed suit, often seeing himself as a father figure to his friends. but something had changed and the understanding that they had become a typical family unit faded, replaced with a dark, festering feeling, a want to possess that had gotten much more intimate in nature without their consent.

it doesn’t matter how fucked up it might be in the end. tommy is theirs and theirs alone and that’s all that matters. 

-

logstedshire is in ruins and at its center lies the crumpled form of one tommyinnit.

“p-phil-” tommy’s voice cracks as he peers up at the winged man who has stumbled across this destruction, standing shell-shocked over the boy’s body. once vibrant eyes that used to shine with excitement are muted and cold now. his leg is twisted at an odd angle behind him and there’s bruises over the curve of his jaw, leading just up to below his eye.

“oh, toms,” phil can’t help but mournfully whisper, falling to his knees so he can carefully gather tommy into his lap, wincing at each whimper that falls from cracked lips. he cards his fingers through blonde hair that is matted with dirt and curls his wings protectively around the boy’s back. “it’s okay, we’re here now, we’ve got you, tommy.”

phil helps him stand on wobbling knees and ghostbur floats forward, wrapping himself quickly around tommy’s shoulders. “you’re going to be safe, tommy,” ghostbur whispers in the shaking boy’s ear and everything about him is the same, from his dull skin to the curls that fall over his forehead, but there’s something a little off about his tone.

ghostbur’s finger brush through his messy hair, one hand sliding down to rest over the dip in his back. with his face squished into ghostbur’s chest, tommy curls his spare fingers into his yellow sweater, one hand still clutching onto the sleeve of phil’s cloak. somehow, despite everything, ghostbur feels so warm, so inviting.

perhaps tommy is too touch-starved, delirious enough to consider the touch of a ghost comforting. but then ghostbur is murmuring once more and tommy trembles. “i’ll never let him touch you again,” ghostbur promises and his voice is exactly that of a former president gone mad in the depths of a ravine. 

before tommy can even begin to process anything, another set of footsteps echoes through his ears. “i’ll take it from here,” technoblade mutters, his voice it’s usual monotone, but his eyes are blazing, set alight with what tommy is pretty sure is anger. he doesn’t have the energy to protest when the piglin strides forward and lifts him off the ground, arms secure around his shoulder and waist.

“we’re taking you home, theseus.” and somehow, swaddled up in techno’s arms, being carried carefully across the snow, tommy can feel the smallest spark of his fighting spirit returning.

-

“i can wash myself,” tommy grumbles as techno reaches over to shut off the tap, dipping his fingers into the water to make sure the temperature is enough to warm up the boy shivering at his side. 

“i never said you couldn’t,” techno points out, voice calm and collected as he peers down at tommy and wrinkles his nose at the clear signs of neglect painted across his skin. “but one of us needs to be here in case you fall.”

“i’m not that weak,” tommy scoffs, half-heartedly pushing at techno’s arm to get him to look away even if he’s not strong enough to move the taller man at all. techno sighs, casting his eyes away until he hears the tell-tale noise of tommy fumbling to undo his buttons. not that weak indeed.

techno would turn back to offer assistance if he wasn’t sure of tommy’s violent reaction that would follow. the boy has always been more concerned with pride than anything else. and so he keeps his eyes plastered to the wall, even as he hears tommy sink into the bath, water splashing over the edge of the tub.

minutes pass and techno barely catches on to the soft whisper of his name. “t-techno?” he turns and finds himself smiling fondly at the sight of tommy, water dripping down the curve of his neck as he holds the shampoo bottle to his chest nervously. “could you, uh, help me do my hair?”

“of course i can,” techno agrees readily, ignoring tommy’s shock at how quickly he offers his assistance. as he lathers the shampoo into the overgrown strands of tommy’s hair, careful to keep his movements gentle in case his claws catch on his scalp, he wonders if tommy has is still plagued by memories of what techno became in the face of betrayal.

well, techno can’t have that, not when he yearns for tommy’s whole-hearted devotion. after he rinses off tommy’s hair, techno is quick to hook his hand around the boy’s chin, tilting his head to the perfect angle so he can lean forward and slot their lips together. tommy freezes, but techno pushes closer and he melts into it, hand reaching up to curl around techno’s wrist.

their lips glide against each other, smoothly, softly, and tommy is quick to let his lips drift apart so techno can lick into his mouth. but then techno’s hand slips out of tommy’s grasp, nudging lower and lower down the planes of tommy’s chest, until it drifts over the inside of his thigh.

a confused moan escapes tommy when fingers prod deeper between his legs, nudging at his rim. wide blue eyes look up, fingers reach out to grab at techno’s soaking sleeve, and techno wants to make him cry, beg and plead for mercy. he rubs a thumb over one of his pretty pink nipples as he pushes a single thick finger into his hole, relishing in the soft mewl tommy lets out.

tommy whimpers nervously at the stretch, hips jerking at techno fingers him deep and slow, mouthing messily over the curve of his collarbones. techno can only wonder how long it’s been since the boy had been touched so intimately. the last time he had managed to get a taste, it had been in the pit, bruising tommy’s lips with his tusks as he fucked a whining tommy full of cum.

it’s no surprise that a minimal amount of touch brings tommy closer and closer to the edge. techno shoves another finger past the puffy rim, brutal and harsh as he shoves them against tommy’s prostate, and he can only watch, completely captivated, as tommy babbles through his orgasm, thick ropes of cum spilling over his stomach.

techno gently pulls out his fingers, not wanting to aggravate the boy into overstimulation when he’s already so tired. he allows himself to just stroke one finger over the side of tommy’s cock, smirking when tommy lets out a weak whimper, but doesn’t go any further than that, washing the cum off his chest with a few splashes of water. 

tommy rises from the tub, legs barely working beneath him, as techno wraps a large, fluffy towel around his shoulders. he hoists the smaller boy up into his arms, tommy’s skinny legs dangling around his waist, and nuzzles his hair in a fond gesture he will forever deny happening to phil later on.

-

tommy is wandering around upstairs in techno’s bedroom when he feels phantom hands skim over the skin of his tummy, before edging beneath the waistband of his jeans.

his hand knocks against the bell attached to the wall, the loud noise ringing through his ears as he squeaks, head looking around rapidly for the culprit. “ghostbur?” tommy asks tentatively, shrinking into himself as he’s answered by a dark chuckle. 

ghostbur flickers back into tommy’s vision all at once, hovering a couple of inches off the ground so he towers above tommy even more than he did in life. his usual soft sweater is still on, his red beanie is still attached to his head, there’s still blue dye staining his fingertips, and yet he’s nothing like the ghostbur that tommy had grown used to in exile. 

“morning, toms.” his voice is deeper than before, still unnaturally airy but at the same time naturally off-putting in the most human of ways. it has that special lilt wilbur had gained in pogtopia, the easy charm he had as a president combined with the bitterness of a man abandoned by his nation.

“m-morning?” tommy doesn’t mean to stutter, but it’s kind of hard not to when ghostbur reaches down and curls his fingers over tommy’s throat, grey contrasting with tommy’s pale skin that is marred with a few noticeable bite marks that hazy eyes narrow their gaze at.

“i’ve been very, very blue, tommy,” ghostbur murmurs, his tone so soft and tender, and tommy tries not to choke on his own spit when ghosbur’s hand tightens around his neck, that happy little grin never leaving the ghost’s face. “you’ve been ignoring me, haven’t you?”

“i- i have?” tommy blurts out before he thinks it through. encouraging ghostbur’s words will never end well. but tommy can feel himself grow breathless under ghostbur’s grasp, the squeezing of his airways making him light-headed, helpless, already on the verge of whimpering for ghostbur to be easy on him.

“of course you have,” ghostbur coos, letting go of tommy’s neck so he can cup the soft edges of his face in his cold, cold hands. tommy heaves, desperately trying to regain air in his lungs, just staring up with wide eyes as ghostbur presses a soft kiss to his forehead. “you’ve been all over techno and phil, you’ve not paid attention to your big brother wilbur at all.”

if tommy could think, he would point out that ghostbur is not his brother, but he’s a little bit dazed and just clings onto ghostbur’s sleeves, pushing himself into ghostbur’s caresses. and admittedly he has been a little wary of ghostbur, even more so now that the ghost is willingly calling himself wilbur and acting like choking tommy is just a normal thing to do out of nowhere.

“don’t you remember the first time i fucked you, toms?” the words catch tommy off-guard and hearing ghostbur, who had once been so wholesome, speak so vulgarly has his stomach twisting into knots. “you were such a brat, just waiting for me to bend you over my desk where anyone could of walked in, because nothing mattered more than wilby’s cock did it?”

of course tommy remembers. it’s pretty fucking difficult to forget suddenly becoming your friend’s stress ball/fuck toy. he hadn’t meant to irritate wilbur while he was dealing with the headache that was schlatt - at least, he hadn’t meant for it to get to the point where wilbur shoved him down on top of his paperwork and proceeded to fuck him raw until tommy was begging for mercy.

“‘m not a brat!” tommy forces the words out even though he can feel his grasp of common sense slipping away. he sounds so petulant without even realising, but being around ghostbur gets him like this, as if they are back in the days before they arrived on this server, back when he was thirteen and even more immature than he is now. “i’m not, i’m not-”

ghostbur shushes the beginnings of his temper tantrum, leaning down to bite at tommy’s bottom lip till the boy is silent apart from the small noises of content that rise up his throat. “but you are, love,” ghostbur whispers, his eyes sharp as he smirks down at the mess he’s already made of his lovely little boy. “always so needy for anyone’s attention that you neglected me. i think you need to learn a lesson, hmm?”

apparently learning a lesson means having his jeans stripped off before ghostbur props his knee up onto the edge of the window facing nothing but snowy lands for miles. but then tommy catches a glimpse of pink hair in the distance and realises that techno is returning, and oh god, he’s about to be watched as he gets fucked, _this is so humiliating_ \- 

tommy squeals when ghostbur drags his cock between his ass cheeks, the freezing skin of a ghost feeling so strange against tommy’s flesh that burns hot in shame and embarrassment. ghostbur’s touches are always so strange, light and fleeting and yet overwhelming because of their inherent strangeness at the same time. 

his hands slip on the window, heavy breaths melting the thin coating of condensation as his palms leave handprints all over the glass. ghostbur’s hand sneaks around his front, curling around the base of his cock tight enough that it sends a shock of pain to his groin, but before he can even complain, ghostbur is pushing the tip of his dick against his hole.

it all goes in a little bit of blur the minute his insides relax around the intrusion, allowing ghostbur to fill him up till he close to bursting. at one point, ghostbur yanks his head back, hand fisted into the roots of his hair, and the sight of such a maniacal grin on ghostbur’s usually pleasant face has him attempting to tumble over the edge. 

but ghostbur’s grip never lets up around his cock and tommy shakes and shrieks as his orgasm is denied, sobbing as ghostbur keeps abusing his prostate, pounding so violently into his ass that tommy swears he’s going to break apart soon. tommy begs and pleads, rambling as he tries to get the ghost to just let him cum already, but ghostbur just keeps rolling his hips into tommy’s slick heat.

it doesn’t take too long for ghostbur to shove into him one last time, groaning in tommy’s ear as he finally spills his load inside of him. it’s not quite cum, but something thicker, that leaves tommy feeling so full, skimming his own hand over his tummy just so he can feel the bulge there. tommy whines as it begins to leak from his hole, cool as it stains the inside of his thighs.

ghostbur - wilbur - whoever it may be, leaves him like that, still rock hard, stuffed to the brim with his release, eyes glossy and mind full of the pleasure of being taken apart so roughly. 

-

it’s not often you’d hear something other than the sound of a pickaxe hitting stone or a zombie groaning in the depths of a cave. 

it’s lucky that they are so far away from l’manburg now, phil thinks. the citizens there are irritatingly nosey bastards, always shoving themselves into other people’s business, and he’s quite convinced he wouldn’t be able to peacefully fuck tommy in the comfort of his own bed without the butcher’s army knocking on his door in another attempt to put him under house arrest. 

perhaps this wasn’t the best place to mess around with his boy at. but phil has never claimed to be a sane man, not once. he had gained the reputation as his friend’s caretaker, their pseudo-father in times of need, but he’s just as chaotic as the rest of them, willing to chase his needs wherever he may be at the time.

he doubts the texture of harsh, smoothened stone is comfortable against the side of tommy’s face, but tommy has decided to be good today, for once, not uttering a single complaint, scratching his nails against the wall as phil shifts his hips forward, careful not to cause any permanent damage. he doesn’t want to tear his precious insides, after all.

he watches with eager eyes as tommy’s rim struggles to stretch around the thick base of his cock. no matter how many times they do this, no matter how many times tommy is fucked full of cum, he’s still just as tight as when phil pushed him up against the wall of the final control room and fucked him silly just to make the boy mindless for once. 

“d-daddy,” tommy moans brokenly, arms twitching as phil pins them behind his back, large hand tight over his fragile little wrists. his hole clenches down when phil’s free hand pushes up the back of his shirt and the older man leans down to mouth over the ridges of his spine. “it’s not gonna fit and w-we still need to get materials for techn-oh!”

tommy lets out a shrill cry when phil, confident that tommy is finally loose enough, drags his cock out till the tip is prodding at his swollen rim and then just drives all the way back in with one sharp thrust. the head knocks against tommy’s prostate, pushing hard against the bundle of nerves until there’s a noticeable puddle of pre-cum on the stone below tommy’s hips.

“of course it fits. you’re always such a good boy for daddy, aren’t you, love?” tommy hesitantly nods, messy hair falling over his tear-filled eyes, moans endlessly falling from his lips as phil starts a steady pace of pounding into the boy’s guts. “taking all of my cock - fuck, fucking _hell_ \- just you like were made for me.”

it’s true. it seems like no matter what any of them do, tommy will always allow himself to be played with, used like a toy just for his found family’s pleasure. it’s exhilarating, finding new ways to mess with the boy’s mind, forcing him to rut against the sole of his shoe or playing with his sore nipples till cum splatters over his small tummy. 

tommy is wailing so loudly it will likely alarm any nearby mobs, but phil can’t find it in himself to care, not when tommy screeches through his first orgasm, crying so prettily that phil wishes he could fuck him forever, just to always see his face painted with pleasure. 

-

tommy hadn’t expected to face this kind of reaction when he had tried on his very own antarctic empire uniform.

the cloak hangs loosely off of his shoulders, the tie that keeps it in place threatening to come undone as his upper body shakes with each heavy thrust, his emerald earring swinging from side to side as it glints next to his already messy hair. the shirt that lies beneath it, made of silk, is unbuttoned to expose the rise and fall of his chest as he pants through his open mouth.

his pants had been ripped in the rush, fabric lying loosely around his thighs as his ass and dick are both completely exposed. his legs are bare up until a few inches above his knees, where a pair of high boots encase his skin, little choked noises escaping tommy’s sore lips when phil dips his fingers beneath the rough material to lift tommy up and down on his cock.

the wooden chair in techno’s main room squeaks under their combined weight, the smooth roll of their hips rattling it although neither of them care enough to notice. phil licks into tommy’s mouth, barely muffling the sweet moans that never stop coming, only hidden by the deafening slick noises of phil’s dick breaching tommy’s cum-soaked rim. 

footsteps approach and calloused fingers tilt his chin up, techno rubbing his thumb over tommy’s swollen lips. “techie,” tommy whimpers his name as he realises that the piglin’s pants are unzipped, his thick cock hard and full as techno wraps a hand around its base and nudges the tip at the corner of tommy’s mouth.

drooling, tommy lets it sink further and further in, jaw stretched wide open as techno forces it all the way down his throat, nose buried in the strong scent of sweat streaked across techno’s skin. he can only lie in phil’s gentle embrace, being fucked strongly on both ends, bulges shifting in both his neck and his stomach.

his vision fades as he trembles through his own climax and by the time he’s coming back to reality, cold fingers are tracing over his arms, ghostbur winding his pale blue scarf around tommy’s wrists until his hands are tied above his head. he’s completely spread apart, at all of their mercy, and tommy’s eyes roll back into his head when another cock nudges at his hole. 

thick, far too thick. tommy feels himself being manhandled, dragged around so he’s in the perfect position to be just a plaything for them to fuck, falling back into techno’s chest with little complaint. the piglin’s rough hands hook under his knees, dragging his thighs up to his chest so the sloppy state of his hole is exposed for everyone to see.

tommy can’t do anything but pant loudly when ghostbur’s dick slips down between his spread legs, threatening to shove in alongside the other that is already stretching him beyond his limits. techno keeps him pinned, so he can barely even squirm as he’s fucked even wider open, gasping as he is sure he’s about to break.

phil leans in from the side, his fingers gracefully dancing along tommy’s tummy before pushing down hard against the protrusion that tommy can’t tell the origin of, unable to pinpoint whether its from the copious amounts of cum inside him or the two cocks messing up his walls. either way, tommy screams, a high-pitched thing that scrapes his throat raw.

mewling, barely any strength left in his aching limbs, tommy lies there, limp and pliable in the strong hold of his lovers, unable to do anything but just take each forceful thrust slamming into him over and over again.

he’s growing delirious, high on the feeling of being taken and taken and left as nothing more than something to cram their cocks into. phil nudges his dick against tommy’s cheek, streaking cum over the bridge of his nose, and tommy cranes his neck to suck the tip into his mouth, lapping greedily at the beads of pre-cum that begin to coat his tongue.

by the time they’ve all had their fill, cum is dripping from the corners of tommy’s ruby red lips and falling in large globs from his abused hole. he just lies there, spread across the floor, gasping for air with his eyes innocently wide and glossy from being fucked into pure bliss.

“such a good boy,” someone purrs, patting their fingers through his fluffy hair. it’s not soft and warm-hearted like phil, nor is it slightly awkward like techno’s usual tone. it’s utterly condescending and filled with patronising affection. it’s wilbur all over and tommy fucking loves it.

when he arrived on this server, tommy never expected this, but he’d rather be nowhere else, especially not if these kinds of touches are his very own reward.


End file.
